My Venture into Vigilantism is Complicated, as Expected
by Daniel K. English
Summary: Talented but rotten, Hikigaya Hachiman is almost the ideal student. Hiratsuka Shizuka tries to give him the push he needs to be better. However, in this world of justice, villainy, and the grey in-between, nothing is as straightforward as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

* * *

Video games are the drug of youth.

You invest your time and resources into a fictional life. Overcome its challenges. Enjoy your rewards. Then you find yourself watching the ending credits roll.

You return to that drug to relive "success" when reality becomes too much to bear.

Eventually, you associate your fictional world with comfort. Secluding yourself in that world, you emerge only to maintain your skeletal livelihood in the real world, with every second spent away in aching need to return to that existence in your head.

Video games are the perfect drug, a seducer and destroyer.

They rot your brain, your eyes, your heart, and your will. Unsurprising, then, that my life―that of Hikigaya Hachiman―is a video game.

Which means that my Quirk is _the best._

Whereas you'd see men and women in the streets with animal heads or with health problems thanks to their inconvenient physiologies, I'd gotten away with just a rotten-looking face. It's made me a problem no amount of Charisma can solve, but still I managed to become the envy of all. Envy me as much as you want! My very rottenness is a weapon that grants me strength! A genius that is great at sports, with an awesome personality, and is absolutely not boring―I'm so amazing no one can approach me!

"You know, Hikigaya," the woman sitting the desk began, "if you didn't laugh in that creepy way, or have that dead-fish gaze, you'd be close to an ideal student."

I snapped out of my monologue. Right, I'm being reprimanded by my Japanese literature teacher slash counselor.

"It wouldn't be fair to other students if I was a perfect person," I answered.

"I said 'ideal student', not 'ideal person'. You're a billion years too early to consider yourself the latter." Ugh. Damn her. The woman known as Hiratsuka Shizuka crossed her arms beneath her chest with a victorious smirk. Despite her professional attire, she was no doubt as nosy a person as I was rotten. She continued. "The fact is your intelligence doesn't extend to normal, social interactions. That's not accounting for your terrible attitude, either. Do you have any friends, Hikigaya?"

"Define 'friends'."

"Nevermind. Only a person without friends would say that."

Tch. "Well, I suppose a woman of your age can―"

A fist landed in my gut, and a small shockwave blew away the papers on Hiratsuka-sensei's desk. My health bar decreased by about a quarter, even with my Vitality stat and passives. Dealing with someone that possessed an enhanced strength Quirk was no joke. Scary!

"Hmph. You know you should never talk about a woman's age," my teacher said.

And you should know better than to hit your students!

"Sorry."

"Hmph. Even with your talents, you can't give a proper apology. My feelings were hurt, you know."

Is she going to hit me again?

"… A thousand grand apologies, your Ma―"

"H-hey! Don't suddenly _dogeza_ like that! Get up!" Hiratsuka-sensei yanked me back to my feet while casting a self-conscious look about her. Seeing that none of the other teachers had noticed, she relaxed. Then she pouted. Sorry sensei, but you're about twenty years too― "Look, you're distracting me again."

"It's not my fault."

"The point is you can't hide behind your Quirk your whole life, Hikigaya."

"Am I not allowed to play into my natural strengths?"

The gorilla teacher glared. "Your Quirk is useful, but, if you rely on it too much, your character will rot too. Think of it as muscle atrophy for the soul. Yours is like a dried raisin. And you just thought of something rude just now, didn't you?"

"No."

"Hmph. Well, since we both know you'll only work for the right incentive, I've got a deal you'll be interested in."

Since becoming my counselor during my second semester in Soubu High School, Hiratsuka Shizuka is one of the few people who know how my Quirk works. How did my examiner describe it? "The manifestation of a pseudo-medium that allows the Quirk holder to interact with the world through a reinterpretation of reality, ignoring physical laws, including and not limited to the self."

Basically, I am using a computer called God.

Of course, Hiratsuka-sensei is no fool. In fact, she's a normie I can respect. She embodies one of the lessons I've learned while growing up: it is easier to reward than to convince.

Knowing this, I knew her deal was worth hearing.

"You told me about quests," she said.

I did. She knew about the Quest System, a part of my Quirk that rewarded me through various means by completing specified tasks. A quest, as the term is used in video games, is a task that promises a reward upon completion. While reward for each quest vary, they all share the feature of granting me EXP, which, after accumulation, makes me more awesome. Personally, I think to work is to lose; however, minimizing effort for maximum gain too is wisdom. If I spend some of my poor youth to build a wealthy future, then the effort spent is worth it.

Of course, it would be nice if I could find someone to mooch off of…

"I found something that might help you find these quests that you're looking for." Ah, the carrot-and-stick approach. Truly, a cunning teacher. "If you want, I can get you involved―as long as you promise you'll stick to it until you graduate."

"That sounds very shady, sensei. Like what a villain would say."

"… I will hit you."

I scratched my head. "If the quests are good, then I'll agree."

Hiratsuka-sensei stood, her lab coat swishing behind her. "Then let's get going."

* * *

"Sensei. You never mentioned what it was you wanted me to do."

Hiratsuka-sensei waved my question away. How carefree. Unfortunately, you're using my time too, so please tell me so I can prepare an appropriate reaction. "You'll know when we get there."

We reached Sobu High School's Special Building, where the bigger classrooms and clubrooms are.

… I have a bad feeling about this.

Sensei had rebuked me on the continual use of my Quirk. Since the modern social contract dictates the moderation of Quirks to maintain a fair, orderly society, I can see why sensei wants me to restrict myself. This goes doubly so in Japanese society, where the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. However, I too think that, since my Quirk is part of myself, I should be able to use it as freely as I wish since it doesn't inconvenience anyone. If a person is a genius, should he avoid using his intelligence in his everyday life? Should an athlete limit his physical activity?

Quirks are the same, in that sense.

"We're here," sensei remarked as we reached a set of doors beneath a blank plate. Without warning, she threw open those doors.

Inside was mostly empty. The desks and chairs had been stacked and placed on one side of the room. The sunlight coming in through the windows on the far wall bathed my sight in red and orange.

Sitting in the middle of that room was a girl.

Raven-haired, beautiful, and seemingly frail, this girl occupied the sole chair in the center of the room as she read from the book on her lap.

I felt as if this room existed in another time, and that we were intruding upon its peace.

"Hiratsuka-sensei," the girl said coldly as she shifted her gaze upwards from her book. "I thought I asked you to knock before entering."

The irresponsible teacher in question entered. "You wouldn't answer even if I did."

"That is because you would enter before I can answer." With an imperceptible sigh, she closed her novel. "So? Did you need something? Who is that rotten-looking creep standing like a buffoon at the door?"

It seems like my defining characteristic is well-pronounced.

Hiratsuka-sensei smiled when she saw I was still at the door. "Come on in. She won't bite."

Rather than wait for my answer to her question, the girl spoke with the sting of a barbed whip. "Hikigaya Hachiman, Class 2-F. Top scorer on math, social studies, Japanese, science, and English. The so-called 'smartest' student in Soubu High School… and the most unsocial. I suppose rumors of your intelligence are misleading if you cannot even identify yourself."

"… Says the girl who fails to introduce herself at a first meeting before demanding a name. But I suppose that's what makes you number two at life."

The girl pursed her lips. Of course, I didn't need her introduction. I could see her name on the label floating above her head in my eyes. Even though I met her just now, I knew of her from the exam score postings in these past two terms, as well as from whispers in the hall.

Yukinoshita Yukino, Class 2-J.

Class J was already far superior academically to the other classes, and Yukinoshita stood at the top of that class.

Unlike myself, whose only social value lay in his grades, Yukinoshita did well in exams and in looks. Thus, she held a status far greater than mine.

Though, from what I hear, she was as unsocial as myself.

It was ironic that her nickname among Soubu students would turn out to be, "Ice Queen."

Hearing her nickname, Yukinoshita turned her frown into an actual scowl.

"Fish Eyes."

… Honestly, I didn't like my nickname, either.

Hiratsuka-sensei clapped her hands twice. "Now, now. Drop the antagonism, you two. Geez, and here I was hoping the smartest students in their year would get along."

"There is little reason why I would 'get along' with him, Hiratsuka-sensei," Yukinoshita remarked.

I grunted. "Same for her."

Rather than being individuals who would bond from shared abilities, the cold Queen and the rotten me were more likely to stand on opposite sides just to spite each other.

Hiratsuka-sensei gestured towards me as I stepped inside the room. "I brought him here to reform him.

"As you can see, he's rotten to the core, like a super Demon Lord." 'Demon Lord'? What are you talking about? Only an idiot would fashion themselves after a creature with such an abysmal track record. I'm more like a Metal Slime! "His social ability is nonexistent. At this rate, he might end up a crime boss after leaving high school, and overthrow the world from the shadows. So, I thought you could turn him into someone remarkable, Yukinoshita."

"I refuse," Yukinoshita answered. "If you think he will become a molester, then have him arrested."

What?! 'Molester'? Who exactly were you projecting would molest you?

"W-well, I can't deny he looks like that. I was thinking he could actually join the club."

"I didn't agree to join a club," I said, and got a death glare in return.

"Actually," Yukinoshita said, "did you forget, sensei? Asking me to reform this human fish corpse is one thing. Having him join the Service Club is another."

"That's right. But I thought this was a good way to hit two birds with one stone."

"Reforming him by having him join?"

"It worked for you, didn't it?"

"I never needed reforming."

I looked between the two. "Hey, I'm completely lost here. Can someone fill me in?"

* * *

"Hikigaya, what do you think about heroes?" Hiratsuka-sensei asked.

Heroes.

Alongside the emergence of Quirks, there have been individuals that defy the social contract and utilize their Quirks against other people. In modern times, there are villains, whom utilize their Quirks against the law; then there are heroes, whom utilize their Quirks under one of many private, registered policing agencies scattered across the country. At the very least, professional heroes are (mostly) realistic enough to know that saving civilians in the name of justice won't pay the bills.

As for my opinion of them, "I don't care much for heroes."

Hiratsuka-sensei looked surprised. "Why not? Knowing you, I expected you to at least have a dark _chuunibyou_ past involving hero work."

Urgh…! Too accurate!

Luckily, almong Hachiman's 108 Skills is the poker face. "I'm sure that's normal for most people such as yourself, sensei. However, something like declaring 'I am the next All Might' in front of a mirror in my youth is a little too much for me."

Technically not a lie. I never imagined myself as a muscle-headed brawling brute.

I couldn't say the same for Hiratsuka-sensei―who had buried her face in both her hands while shaking (lol). Oops. I'll avoid mentioning that in the future (lol).

"While I can't say I disagree," Yukinoshita began. "I would like to hear your reason as to why."

I snorted. "Well, it's nice that heroes keep the streets clean of criminals. I don't deny that. It's also nice that they're being role models for children. However, putting that much attention into heroic images only makes people foolish. They'll forget that their heroes aren't perfect."

Yukinoshita stared at me for a long moment. Then she nodded. "Though I cannot agree with your perspective completely, I can acknowledge what you are saying."

I raised a brow.

At my implied challenge, she glanced at the traumatized teacher (lol) before looking towards the afternoon sun. "Just because heroes aren't perfect does not mean they are not worth investing everything in. Whether the hero in question is perfect or not has no bearing on the heroes' true role: inspiration. As you implied, a professional hero's impact on the world exists in both crime-fighting and in social impact. The hero's job is to become a symbol to the common folk as well. 'So long as I am here, I will bear your hope'… or something like that. In a way, they are the pillars that keep society from crumbling into chaos."

In other words, heroes glue together the trust that allows society to continue functioning, even when there are people in the shadows that can literally end the world if they wanted to.

"That's nice and all," I retorted, "but that kind of message relies on the belief that, if push comes to shove, the hero in question will carry through. Naturally, this is impossible to guarantee."

"… I agree. Which is why it is also the duty of the hero to pursue perfection, no matter what."

"Hmph. 'Perfection' is only cheap as a word, y'know. Given time, even All Might will lose someday."

" **Hikigaya."** I stopped talking as Hiratsuka-sensei recovered. No, not just recovered― _awakened._ The true Demon Lord revealed herself as she squeezed my shoulder! **"Shut up or I will punch you."**

… Uwaa. We had a hardcore fan here, huh?

"I think you can see now, Yukinoshita." Sighing, Hiratsuka-sensei fixed her hair and pulled out a cigarette from her breast pocket. "Do you think he'll be any good in the club?"

"I will admit his rotten brain isn't irreparable."

Exhaling a lungful of smoke, Hiratsuka-sensei grinned. That cigarette is no good for your health, you know? Judging from the crinkle of her eyebrows, Yukinoshita agreed. "Then he's in!"

"I still don't know what you two are talking about," I said. "How does this Service Club have anything to do with heroes? Soubu High doesn't have a hero internship program."

"No, it doesn't." Looking proud of herself, Hiratsuka-sensei grabbed a chair from a stack and sat.

I frowned. "I don't think we have many alumni that are pro-heroes now."

"We have a few, but they don't contact us much."

"Then what?"

"Guess."

Annoying. Okay, what happened so far? I got lectured on how much I used my Quirk, was told how rotten my character was, and was offered a source for Quests. Hiratsuka-sensei then brought me here, where I got insulted by one of Soubu's top students.

No, there was another important fact: we talked about our ideals regarding hero work, right?

Hmm.

"I'm inclined to believe this Service Club is directly involved with hero work."

"Continue."

"I take it your persuading Yukinoshita-san into 'reforming' me has direct involvement with this hero work." Wait. Oh, no. "Since I'm not aware of this school having any affliation with a pro-hero agency, I'm sure the hero work involved is… private."

"Getting warm."

"This Service Club is a façade for a vigilante group."

Hiratsuka-sensei's grin was fierce.

* * *

Vigilantes.

When you think about them, they're people who defy the hero/villain social dynamic. Like heroes, vigilantes risk their lives to protect society from its scumbags. Look up a name on G*ogle, and eventually you will find no shortage of praise. Vigilantes on the whole are loved by the people.

However. Vigilantes are no doubt _illegal._

Under the law, there exists a strictly-defined code that forms the notion of "justice." To be a professional hero, one must commit to this notion of justice, regardless of personal feelings. Moreover, no matter one's personal feelings, this defined notion of justice must be followed to the very letter.

Respect. Restraint. Responsibility.

But like everything, there will be disagreements.

Those who disbelieve. Those who distrust. Those who will take matters into their own hands. Or simply, those who wish to prove themselves…

They are vigilantes.

In technical terms, they're not much different from villains.

"So." My mouth felt slightly dry. That would be because the moisture in the air was being condensed from the rapidly-changing temperature. If I looked back, I would see frost coating the only safe way out of the classroom. Hiratsuka-sensei pretended not to notice. Or maybe this was what she wanted. "I guess I got it? You and Yukinoshita, the both of you vigilantes."

"You got it."

"… So, why are you telling me? Rather, aren't you endangering yourselves?"

"My thoughts exactly," Yukinoshita said.

"Mah, calm down, Yukinoshita. See, Hikigaya here has his own secrets he wants to keep. And I think that, if he really wanted what he wanted, he could join us, and we'd help each other out."

It took me a second to remember why I was here: quests.

If my Quirk turned me into a video game character in the real world, then, in true game fashion, there would be quests for me to complete.

With the strength of my Quirk determined by an accumulation of EXP, then naturally I would be drawn to what grants me the most EXP over time. Knowing this, Hiratsuka-sensei determined a reasonable course of action. Since quests formed from having activities to complete, and rewards grew from facing challenges, involving me in an activity like crime-fighting was a good idea. Because I wanted EXP, I would want to help her with her vigilantism.

However―

"I refuse."

Hiratsuka-sensei stiffened. "Eh?"

"I refuse," I repeated. "I have no interest in becoming a vigilante."

"B-but, quests!"

"The EXP isn't worth putting myself in danger like that."

Yukinoshita sighed. "As I suspected."

"I'm sorry, but please don't involve me in this." I bowed as I back away towards the door.

"W-wait a minute." Hiratsuka-sensei caught my arm, looking uneasy. Disappointed as well. How could she communicate everything with just a look? "I'm sorry about dragging you here like this. Really. And I won't force you to join or mess with your grades or anything. But, please do me a favor and―"

"I won't tell anyone what you're doing. Just don't mention my name or anything if you get arrested."

I freed myself from her grip and reached for the door. The frost coating it was thick, but a solid tug broke the sheet of ice holding it closed. I bowed again and left.

As I made my way through the halls out of the special building, a voice resounded in my head.

"H-how about we just be friends?" it said.

It had been years since my illusions died alongside my first romance. No matter how high Hikigaya Hachiman climbed, he was still the rotten Hachiman. The more I thought about it, the more I recognized the misconceptions that I had entangled myself in which engineered that moment.

The belief that success could overcome stigma.

The belief that being a hero meant something more than strength and fame.

The belief that I could do anything I set myself to do.

Humans are not born equal. That is simply a lie told by society to prevent us from hating one another. The inconvenient truth came into light following the emergence of Quirks, when there existed those who could not even have a power to their name. Even the most talented individuals can lack in the simple things that everyone else takes for granted.

Thus, I could not step into that world.

I could not become an arbiter of justice when I couldn't even trust my own idea of justice. I could barely stand up to say, "This is the person I am."

I could not bring myself to admire heroes, who paraded about with their deceit.

I could not be a vigilante, who stood steadfast in their convictions.

Hiratsuka-sensei was right.

Maybe Hikigaya Hachiman could only be a villain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

When I was young, I was enamored by heroes. Figures larger than life battling evil, saving those who needed saving, simply being―it was a vision of success I obsessed over.

Now, I think I am wise enough not to repeat the mistakes of the past.

Coming home, I found that I was the first one back as usual. I left my shoes at the foyer and my bag next to the couch to pour myself some orange juice from the fridge. Ah, wait. The carton was empty. Damn. I spied a can of MAX coffee and grabbed that instead.

I slumped into the couch, sipping my drink.

The otherwise empty house had little to do. Both my father and mother work as corporate slaves. It was thanks to their sacrifice that I could live this fairly comfortable lifestyle. My sister goes to middle school, and even served in the student council. And I―well, for reasons, I am always the first one home during weekdays. Most of that time I spend getting easy EXP from completing homework assignments and doing household chores.

At this rate, I could become a professional househusband. My work is worth paying for, seriously!

A while later, I brought my things to my room. I knocked out my homework quickly―and heard a _ding!_ in my head for a quest completed. My Quirk told me that the floor downstairs needed cleaning so I went downstairs and fetched a mop.

When my little sister got home, I was already making something for her to eat.

"I'm back!" she declared.

"Welcome back," was what I replied with as I did my brotherly duty. I'm such a wonderful brother, making sure my little sister didn't go hungry after working hard all day. Oh, and this was one of the better quests I got everyday, since it gave me EXP and let me grind a couple of my 108 skills.

Into the living room came Hikigaya Komachi, a girl with neck-length black hair and a bright air antithesis to my own rotten powers. The difference is enough that I sometimes think one of us was adopted. She was still in her school uniform when she spotted me in the kitchen. "Smells good. What's cooking?"

"Hamburger."

"Oh~! That's right, mom and dad are coming home late today. I'll go set the table." When I finished, I served homemade patties in sesame buns. When Komachi took her first bite, she made a sound of blissful satisfaction. "As usual, the food you make is great. It'll be hard to keep my weight down when I get older."

"That's alright. Even if you get fat, your brother will still love you. Isn't that nice?"

"Disgusting."

We finished our first burgers and went on to seconds.

"Hey. Did something happen?"

As expected, my little sister had an acute sense when it came to my state of mind. I picked off a sesame seed stuck on the corner of her mouth. "Komachi. What would you do if your big brother decided to go back into the hero scene?"

Silence.

"… I wouldn't like it," she answered.

Exactly. "Me neither."

"Why did you ask? Did another dog almost get run over by a car today?"

"No. A teacher turned out to be a vigilante, and tried to recruit me. Keep that a secret."

"… A teacher? Isn't that really bad?"

I made a noise in agreement. "She'll get fired and arrested if the wrong person finds out. And if it's a villain, then things might get worse. But your big brother will be fine."

Komachi chewed on her food for a bit. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to talk about that when we were eating. "Do you miss it? I mean, you stopped, but when you were doing the same a couple years back it looked like you enjoyed it."

I thought about it. "No, I don't miss it."

After all, what I wanted back then wasn't something I wanted now. Except for the EXP, that is.

"Well, if you do decide to continue again, remember that your cute little sister will always be waiting for you to come back safely. That's worth a ton of Komachi points, right?"

"Finish your food before it gets cold, brat."

Looking mighty pleased with herself, Komachi took another bite from her burger.

* * *

Every hot-blooded youth has, at one point, wanted to become a pro-hero.

To my shame, I am not excluded.

When I was young, I got picked on for being Quirkless, as my Quirk wasn't as flashy as others. Even so, I had been determined to make something of it when I discovered I could improve myself through it.

In the end, I became a miracle boy.

Through my Quirk, I became faster, stronger, and smarter. Enough so that, when the promise of adventure and excitement became too much, I donned a cape and mask as a vigilante as a student in elementary school. Of course, I was determined to stay out of the spotlight―mainly, since I was too young to be a pro-hero, too scared to face the worst villains in Chiba, and too worried about the consequences of having my identity known to everyone.

And, maybe, I was already a loner by then.

Whether it was because I garnered the spite of my peers, or because they saw me as some kind of cheat, I could never be accepted as one of them.

That didn't change in middle school. When the freshness of a new environment passed, the cliques formed, and I found myself excluded from it all. I was too smart. Too fast. Too strong. Most importantly, too rotten. I had a unique rebelliousness that alienated me from others, an awkwardness in my fluency.

Even when I confessed to the only girl in class that was nice to me, I found that reality always escaped my expectations.

"H-how about we just be friends?" she had said the last time we spoke, years ago.

I don't know where Orimoto Kaori went.

After self-reflecting, I didn't care. All I understood was that Hikigaya Hachiman could never have the respect his alter ego had. My masked self drew secret admirers and raised hardcore fans. My regular self received only uneasy looks and hushed whispers. No matter how great my achievements, they would not earn me the same social currency as I got when I was my other self. Perhaps you can call it a curse; a curse of envy, jealousy, and disdain.

I concluded: that is the difference between the delusional world and the living world.

That is why I had quit.

It was nothing eventful. Nothing glamorous. I simply stopped. My admirers drifted away. Ny fans became fans of other heroes. And the world kept going.

"You're doing it again," Komachi whined.

"Doing what?"

"Brooding." I wiped a plate dry with a towel. My dishwashing skill leveled. From the sofa in the living room, my little sister sat cross-legged with her school assignments spread over the coffee table. She had already bathed and changed out of her uniform into baggy pants and a long-sleeve shirt. The television was on, playing a high school drama. "If you have so much time to think, help me with my homework."

"Right, right."

When we were done, I left food for my parents on the table and headed upstairs to my room.

From the notifications I could pull up in my head like in a science-fiction virtual reality setting, my golden EXP bar sat at a depressing 87%. It had been a week since that number changed. I would need at least another to raise it again.

As the lights went out in the house excluding the desk lamp in my room, I immersed myself in other activities: leveling my skills by reading through self-help books; looking for interesting news the web; even exercising a little. There was also a personal project of mine that I handled on the side. When the clock hit sixteen past eleven, I heard footsteps in the hall outside my room―Komachi going to the bathroom.

Later, I heard the door open and shut downstairs. My parents, home at just past twelve.

I went downstairs to greet them, leveling Stealth Hikki in the process. At one, they went to their own rooms, exhausted.

My Quirk interfered with my sense of exhaustion, so I had a restless night.

Rather than sleeping, I stared at my ceiling in the dark pondering over Hiratsuka-sensei's offer. Good quests were hard to come by. Her offer was my only real way of leveling anymore.

No, that's not right. An alternative was returning vigilantism on my lonesome again.

Or maybe be a villain? Haha.

I had quit when I was younger since I became disillusioned and frustrated with the progress I had been making. Certainly, I was getting the EXP I desired at that time. But there was something I hadn't been getting. It wasn't fame or merit. I enjoyed having my confidence stroked when I would hear on rare occasions about my activities as a vigilante from people around me, but ultimately I could have gotten that even after I had been rejected by Orimoto Kaori.

Money, love, friendship, rivalries, wisdom, strength, challenge, confidence―

None of that was what I had been truly looking for.

It was…

I opened my eyes. Frowned. Then sighed. The clock in my mind hit five-thirty. I got out of bed, put on light clothing, and headed outside quietly to grind my Runner Hikki skill.

Outside, the rising sun colored the violet sky orange.

* * *

"Ah, oniichan." Komachi yawned when she entered the living room. "Good morning."

"Morning. Breakfast is on the table."

"Mmm." She seated herself at the table, still in her pajamas. "Thanks for the food."

"Don't touch those portions. Those are for the folks." Both of whom were still fast asleep. Seeing those two overworking themselves for their precious daughter's living comforts is an example of why I'll choose the dedicated househusband career. Stay-at-home, flexible hours, food and rest. Truly, it's a hikikomori's dream job. "Here's coffee."

"Mmm. Thanks. Hot!"

"Careful." I took off my apron. "I'll go wake the other two. Don't take too long."

"Yes."

I climbed upstairs and knocked on the door to my parents' room. It was still early for them to go to work, but they liked to take their time in the morning.

On the other side of the door, I heard a curse and a thump.

"Breakfast is ready," I called.

An affirmative response reached me as I went back downstairs. What a dutiful son I am, mhm.

After cleaning up Komachi's plate and picking up the clothes she discarded in the living room―the notion of a cute little sister in her underwear being anything more than just that is just a fetish for deplorable men―I cleared my own plate and began wrapping the now-cooled lunch boxes in cloth. One for myself, one for my sister, one for each of my parents, one―

"Morning." A balding, middle-aged man with dark eyebags made his way to the table. He wore a buttoned shirt and tie, and a pair of business slacks. An example of a normal salaryman, this one, and the prime reason why I didn't want to follow in his footsteps. It was bad enough that I inherited those rotten-looking eyes of his. Now, his hairline receded everyday! I won't stand being bald until I'm withered and grey! And even then! At least his belly didn't hang over his belt. "Where's Komachi?"

"Upstairs. Coffee, food, and newspaper. Your lunchbox is on the counter."

"Mmm."

Komachi came downstairs not long after, this time in her school uniform. "Morning, dad!"

"There's my daughter." Hey, you daughter-con dad. At the very least you can put a little more enthusiasm into your morning greetings for your son. Or he'll overcook your food.

In my sister's wake, my mother came downstairs as well. Like dad, she worked as a corporate slave. They even worked in the same company, being a rather popular power couple. Considering how much Komachi resembled her, my dad was really fortunate.

I'm sure he thinks it would be better if I were out of the way.

Mom, in similar attire to my dad minus the tie and manly fitting, made her way grumpily to the table. I slid her own cup of glorious bean brew and breakfast.

It was an unspoken household rule not to disturb her in the morning if we wanted our bodies intact.

When the clock hit eight, I grabbed the remaining lunches and my bag. With my uniform on and my body washed after running, I retrieved my bike. My parents would go to work on their own time.

I handed Komachi her lunch as she left the house behind me. "Yours."

"Thanks~!"

Stuffing it in her bag, she threw her things on the carrying basket of my bike before seating herself on the rear seat. This damned kid. "Again?"

"It's faster than walking!" she said with a smile.

True. My Cycling Hikki skill was nothing to scoff at. If I was serious, I could get a police officer to chase me for speeding. "Fine, brat. Just don't fall off."

She laughed. "Spoiling me rotten as usual."

Heh. Little did my sister know, that's exactly my plan! It took a long discussion between my dad and I when my little sister began middle school to come up with it. See, so long as I am the best brother I can possibly be, feeding her and helping her, then she'll have unrealistic expectations when it comes to finding a boyfriend. Since I'm the example Komachi will be comparing other guys to, she'll find such a dearth of qualified men like myself to enter a relationship with. Thus, my little sister will never say something like, "Oniichan, dad, I've brought home my boyfriend!"

That's something that I'd never allow to happen! I'd sick all my burst damage on the bastard the second he walks through the door!

… Now that I think about it, that's the only reason why dad keeps me around, right?

* * *

After I dropping Komachi off at her school, I reached mine fairly quickly.

Outside the school gates of Soubu High, the flow of students going to school was mild; it was that time between early and late that lasted until the school's bell rang.

I almost stopped when I saw Hiratsuka-sensei waiting outside the gate.

I didn't expect someone of her character to be so persistent. What am I saying, of course she is. How many boyfriends have she chased away with that kind of yandere behavior? Well, I could understand if she was unsure about whether I would tell anyone about her secret. It was a big secret, relatively speaking. Still, if I wanted to tell someone about it, she wouldn't be able to stop me unless she erased my memories or killed me. She could also blackmail me, but everyone already knew how rotten I was so there wasn't much she could do. So there, I win!

As I drew near, my councilor noticed my approach. She waved.

Of course, I didn't wave back. How lame would that be?

Not to mention, a teacher like her waiting for her student outside the gates, waving at him when she sees him; isn't that how rumors begin?

"Hiratsuka-sensei, that's kind of creepy," I told her immediately.

She looked startled. "Eh? Really?"

"Please think about your position before you try to traumatize me like that."

"R-right. Sorry." After clearing her throat, she spoke without meeting my gaze. "I need to speak with you for a moment. You're not in trouble or anything."

"I told you I wasn't interested in joining the club."

Hiratsuka-sensei turned sheepish, a rare sight. "L-look, I want to drop the subject, too. It's awkward to hang on it. But a certain _somebody_ is way nosier than I, and I have no choice but to ask you to come with me. Really. You'll be doing me a favor, so…"

I wanted to exaggerate a sigh, but upon closer inspection it looked like she was quite exasperated herself. Didn't she know getting this stressed so early in the morning is bad for the health? At this rate, she'd develop wrinkes and actually become a lonely old lady. Fight it! "… Is this someone I need to see _now_ , or can it wait until later?"

"She's not the kind of person who'd take being made to wait very well."

And I didn't like being made to hurry. How unfair. "Alright."

I put my bike away at the racks and followed Hiratsuka-sensei towards the special building. The halls going there were mostly empty, as usual. Sensing we were alone, I decided to poke her for information. "So, who is this person who wanted you to bring me along?"

"Yukinoshita Haruno."

Yukinoshita… "As in, the same―?"

"Nn. Yukino's older sister."

That doesn't sound good. Did I trigger the younger sister so badly that her older sister wanted to beat me up? Maybe I should escape? As soon as I considered ditching, a pleasant voice right beside my ear caused me to jolt. Too close! "Hello there," a woman's voice said. Turning, I saw a college student standing right beside me, smiling in a devious way. Did she tape a note on my back or something? "Shizuka-chan, I got bored and decided to meet you halfway."

Hiratsuka-sensei made a low noise. Was it some kind of secret greeting you used at people you didn't like? Could I learn it?

"You shouldn't call me that, Haruno."

The intruding Haruno ignored her as she studied me like a sample of newly-discovered bacteria under a microsope. "Is this the boy you and Yukino-chan were talking about?"

"Yeah, he is. Don't cause too much trouble, okay?"

"I'm Yukino's older sister, Haruno. Pleased to meet you." In that excessively pleasant and nice manner of hers, the elder Yukinoshita sibling introduced herself. It was actually a little difficult to believe Haruno was related to that Ice Queen; was Yukino supposed to develop in this manner as well?

I restrained my gaze. "N-nice to meet you. I am Hikigaya Hachiman."

Wait, why did I stutter? Just because she's got good looks and a good body doesn't mean I'd be swayed! In fact, I'd say the more beautiful the woman, the more vicious her poison. Especially in the tropics!

"I mentioned that some of our alumni are pro-heroes, right?" Hiratsuka-sensei asked.

"… You're kidding me."

Haruno giggled. Sort of. I thought it was the kind of laugh one did when one is asked to do something they found annoying or repetitive, but still felt some obligation to do. She struck a pose, with the fingers of her outstretched hand in a victory sign, her legs spread slightly apart, and her other hand on her hip. A wink finished it. "Lady Winter is here!"

I blinked. "Who?"


End file.
